


Late Night Labour

by Lefaym



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-14
Updated: 2010-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lefaym/pseuds/Lefaym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Rift doesn't stop spewing out aliens just because Gwen is two days past her due date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Labour

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to lionessvalenti on LJ for the beta.

"Aaah, fuck!" Gwen tried not to double over as another contraction ripped through her. God, if she bent over now, she'd overbalance and topple, and she couldn't afford that. She had the feeling that if she fell now, she wouldn't be able to get up again.

_Rhys is going to kill me_. It wasn't the first time she'd broken her promise—the new Torchwood team was still far too green for her to stay on paperwork all the time—but she suspected that this particular incident might be a little harder to hide from him. Clenching her hands more tightly around her weapon, she told herself that he'd have to live with it; the Rift wasn't going to stop spewing out aliens just because she was two days past her due date, and somebody had to protect the public.

Gwen heard quick footsteps coming up behind her, and she turned to see Johnson emerging from the darkness.

"You all right?" Johnson's tone was brisk and efficient; she might as well have been asking about weapon stocks.

"I'm fine," said Gwen, through gritted teeth. "The Gryanof went that way." She gestured towards the house-lined street to her left, hoping that none of its residents had decided to take a stroll at this ungodly hour.

Johnson nodded once, and was off before Gwen had the chance to respond. Gwen raised one hand to activate the comm in her ear.

"Lois?"

"Right here, boss." Lois seemed to be breathing heavily, but she sounded happy.

"Everything good at your end?"

"Andy and I have the weevil situation under control, as of thirty seconds ago."

"Great." Gwen drew in a sharp breath as her next contraction seized her. By sheer force of will, she did not cry out. "Lois, I need you to—shit—I'm at Hawker Close, near Tremorfa Park. I need you over here, with the car, as soon as—fuck—as soon as possible, okay?"

"Sure thing," said Lois. "See you in about five minutes."

A small click told Gwen that the comms had closed, and she was grateful that Lois hadn't asked questions. Taking her pistol in both hands again, Gwen set off after Johnson, as quickly as she could—which wasn't particularly quick, under the circumstances. _God, please don't let my waters break_. That would just be embarrassing.

Fortunately, Hawker Close wasn't particularly long, and it wasn't long before Gwen saw Johnson engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the Gryanof. It seemed to have disarmed her, but she was holding her own anyway. Through her pain, Gwen allowed herself to be glad that she'd hired the former Special Agent, in spite of her well-founded reservations about the woman.

Gwen stood back, knowing that a rash move here could spell disaster, but half a minute later, she saw her chance. Johnson aimed a kick at the creature's abdominal area, and it reeled away from her in shock—and that gave Gwen just enough space to fire her pistol with minimal risk to Johnson's continued existence.

Bright purple blood spurted from the Gryanof's forehead, and the alien fell to the ground.

"Ha!" Gwen shouted in victory. And then she swore as she realised that her prayers about her waters breaking had most definitely _not_ been answered. "Fuck, fuck, shit!"

"Jesus Christ, Gwen, what's happened?"

Gwen turned as she heard Andy's voice behind her. She hadn't even heard the car pull up. Lois, two steps ahead of him, seemed to grasp the situation immediately, and she was at Gwen's side within moments, offering her arm as support.

"Right," said Gwen, looking around at her staff. "Andy, Johnson—you're on clean-up. You might need—oh, bloody hell—might need to ret-con some of the residents if they start asking questions." She could already see a few lights turning on inside the houses that lined the street. "And Lois?"

"Yes?"

"You need to get me to the fucking hospital, _right now_."


End file.
